"What baby?" I ask, confused.
"The one you're going to make with my brother," she says slowly, as though explaining something to a child. "He understands the seriousness of this."
"Uh, no . . . we aren't makin' babies anytime soon, Q." I look around, seeing that now the people around us aren't even trying to act like they're not listening.
"Yet. Which, I might add, I'm not too happy that I'm being forced to wait."
Jana breaks in. "Sweetheart, you gotta let them have some fun first. Once those babies get here, they'll have to use all these stored-up humpin' memories until they can sneak away, trying to find time."
"You two are insane," I say, gasping. "We won't need to sneak away and find time. There isn't anything better than being loved nice and good by Maverick!"
"Until he breaks your vagina!" Quinn yells over the table.
"My vagina is not broken," I fume, tossing the fry I had been about to eat at her, hitting her in the middle of her forehead.
"Then why are you walkin' like you have a stick rammed up your butt?"
I frown, trying to remember if I actually have been, but it's hard to focus on that with all the beer swimming around my brain.
"I'm not walkin' funny. I've just been well used by a monster!"
"You don't have to brag about it," she grumbles.
"You're the one that keeps bringing up your brother's beautiful penis."
"Uh." I hear someone clear their throat, but keep looking at Quinn. She's not even paying attention to me, though, instead being held up by Jana while she struggles to stay on her stool because she's laughing so hard.
"Darlin', I'm not sure I would refer to my monster as beautiful."
I jerk my head around, and momentarily forget what I was doing when I see the two handsome men standing behind me. The Davis boys are a sight to behold, so similar in build and looks, but my heart goes wild for only one of them.
"And call it a cock, not a penis, Leigh! Men like to call it manly things like that."
Maverick looks behind me at his sister's vulgar words and just shakes his head, a vaguely pained expression on his face.
"Is it better if I say your cock is beautiful?" I ask in a serious tone, looking between Maverick and Clay, waiting for one of them to answer.
"Are you drunk, baby?" Maverick smirks at me.
I nod.
"You want to keep getting drunk or go home?"
"That depends," I whisper huskily, crooking my finger so he'll bend closer to me. "Do I get to ride my cowboy in both scenarios or only one?" Apparently I'm not as quiet as I had thought because Quinn and Jana start laughing loudly.
Maverick never answers me. He pulls me to my feet before sitting down in the stool I had been on and pulling me into his lap. Of course, judging by the hardness against my bottom, I have a feeling that I'll be riding my cowboy soon enough, no matter how much I have to drink tonight.
And I can't wait.
28
MAVERICK
"Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)" by Big & Rich
"Stop," I scold, slapping Leigh's hand away playfully from my belt for the fifth time since I climbed into the driver's seat. We haven't even pulled out of the Coop and she's so worked up I half expected her to jump me in the parking lot.
"Please?" she whines.
"If you get your hands anywhere near my cock right now I'm going to wreck my truck."
She makes a sound of protest before huffing her hands over her chest and pouting out the window.
I've never seen Leigh drunk, but the playful, uninhibited side of her is something else. She was definitely feeding off the attention that our group was getting tonight. She's always been the quiet one, never shy to have fun, but she definitely didn't seek out the spotlight. Instead of allowing myself to get pissed that I missed watching her grow into her confidence, I thank my lucky stars that I get to spend the rest of my life experiencing every facet of her personality. We've known each other our whole lives, but in a lot of ways we're strangers.
I glance over, realizing I haven't heard from her in a few minutes, and seeing her slouched over sleeping like the dead, that gorgeous mouth hanging open slightly, I smile to myself. Clay warned me at dinner what we would find when we got to the Coop. Apparently the girls love going out to have a good time, and when alcohol is in play, they get a little rowdy. It was my decision to wait a few hours to head over. I wanted Leigh to have some girl time with Quinn, but a big part of me couldn't wait to experience drunk and wild Leighton James.
And I wasn't disappointed.
By the time we left, three hours after Clay and I got there, I was more than a little turned on. The drunker Leigh gets, the more handsy she is, apparently. But the more handsy she was, the wetter that white shirt kept getting. Hell, at one point I was mildly concerned that she couldn't even feel her lips anymore. She would just dribble her beer all over her. Don't get me wrong, I fucking love watching her cut loose, but I don't need the motherfucking punks in this town seeing her like that.
I pull up to the house, Leigh now snoring and drooling against the window. Turning off the truck, I look down at my still painfully hard cock and apologize for him not getting to have fun tonight. I was looking forward to finding out what drunk sex with Leigh would be like. Something tells me, judging by how hard the booze has hit her, it wouldn't be a fun time.
I drop to the ground and shut my door. She doesn't even stir, so I run up and unlock the door with the key that's now on my key ring. Earl gives a hardy meow before walking back into the dark house, clearly not impressed enough to stick around. I can see her still passed out from the porch lights reflecting into the cab. Even a mess, she still makes my chest feel like I'm about to have a heart attack. The power she holds over me is something indescribable.
I walk over to her side of the cab and ease the door open, planning to scoop up my little sleeping angel and bring her inside the house.
"Yeeeeeawwwwwkkkk!" Leigh jumps me the second I click the door lock.
The next minute, though, I'm convinced I really am having a heart attack. The second her door clicked, moving under her passed-out slumber, she jumped and attacked. Second winds have nothing on my girl when she remembers what she was after before passing out. She moving so quickly that she brings us both down to the grass next to my truck. I've fallen harder, so a buck twenty-five woman bringing me to my ass is nothing, but it's the power behind her actions that knocks the wind right out of me. I'm fucking powerless. Powerless and loving every fucking second.
What was that I thought about her being a submissive woman during drunk sex? Fuck, could I have been any more wrong?
"You taste so good," she hums against my neck, her tongue licking hot paths from the collar of my shirt up to trace the shell of my ear. I was hard before now, but her actions are making my cock painfully so. "God, every inch of you tastes like an orgasm in my mouth."
My hands grip her hips, trying fruitlessly to guide her fumbled movements and keep her from doing permanent damage to my crotch. Her fingers curl into the gap between my buttons, and she leans up long enough to rip the shirt open, not even wasting time to pull it all the way off before her nimble fingers are pushing up underneath. My hands end up empty when she moves from my hold before I can even register it, but when I feel her hot breath against my stomach, I lift my head up to look down my body.
She's kneeling next to me, thankfully in the grass and not on the gravel that's on the other side. Her mouth is kissing softly across the skin right above my belt, her fingers making quick work of the leather. I push her hair over her shoulder, about to come in my fucking pants at the sight of her aroused face.
Fuck me, she wants this. Desperately, if I had to guess.
"Lift up," she commands, and I comply. She shoves my jeans down, taking my boxer briefs with them. The second my cock springs free of its bindings, though, she abandons my pants.
"Fuckin' hell!" I bellow into the darkness around us when her mouth takes my cock d
eeply. Not even gagging when I hit the back of her throat. When her hands come into play, one playing with my balls and the other working in tandem with her mouth on my cock, my eyes cross.
The ability to hold my head up is lost, and I drop back down and look up at the stars painted in the sky. The groans of her getting turned on just from my cock in her mouth become a sound track of lust. Between her noises and her mouth, I have to squeeze my eyes tight and clench my ass, the need to come overpowering.
"Get up here and fuckin' show your cowboy how you ride," I grunt, praying that I don't lose it before I can feel her hot pussy surround me.
I keep my eyes clenched and my hands fisting the grass under me, because I know that seeing her astride me would undo me completely at this point. Control? What's that? I had almost gained just a smidgen of it back when I feel her straddle my body, but when she drops hard down on my shaft, what little control I had managed to find evaporates.
My eyes snap open of their own volition to witness a sight I will never forget. I had been so lost in trying not to come that I completely missed her stripping down to nothing. There she was, with the moonlight bright on her pale skin, bouncing on my cock. With each vigorous shift of her hips, her tits sway. Her hands brace on my knees behind her, thrusting her chest into the spotlight, and making my mouth water.
"Your penis is so beautiful," she says with a moan. Even though I'm seconds away from blowing my top, hearing her say that makes my chest move with a laugh. Her head, which had been thrown back in pleasure, lifts, and she glares at me. "Don't you laugh at me, cowboy."
"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'," I thickly rumble.
She moves her hands, still rocking against me, and brings them up to squeeze her tits. My eyes falling to watch her pleasure herself. She gives her heavy breasts a few flexes of her fingers but then moves to pinch her nipples harshly. Her moans pick up volume. I say a silent prayer of thanks for being in the middle of nowhere because seeing her fuck herself on my body in the wide-open space of her front yard is a vision I hope to have branded in my memories forever. I feel my cock swell, her tight pussy making it impossible to do anything but pray I can last.
"You're so big," she whimpers, her even rocking faltering slightly.
My hands take her hips again, helping to steady her. Her hands drop her breasts as she falls to brace herself with them on either side of my head. The heavy weight of her huge tits leaves them rocking between our bodies, making my cock twitch, earning a squeak from her. I lick my lips, wishing I had the ability to flip her over and get my mouth on her tits, but I'm powerless to the woman taking what she needs, bringing us both to where we want to be.
Her lips move to mine, not moving to kiss me, as her breath ghosts over my parted mouth. 'Hold on, cowboy," she coos, the only warning she gives me before she starts bouncing, faster this time. Her tight heat swallowing me whole with every slam against me, moving her hips up rapidly until I can feel her tightness trying to suck me back in at the tip. She speeds up even further, her wetness running from our joined bodies down my shaft. There is nothing I can do but hold her hips tight while she shows me what it's like to be well and truly fucked.
When she drops one last time, squeezing my cock in a vice grip, I'm powerless to hold back. My back flies off the ground, hands off her hips, and I groan out my release while kissing her roughly. With each pulse of my cock, she whimpers in return, swiveling her hips while riding out her own orgasm.
"Can we do that again?" she whispers against my lips, after our movements still to just a slight rustling.
I fall back, pulling her with me, and roar with laughter.
"Darlin', you just sucked me dry with your tight pussy. I'm gonna need to rest a bit before I can fuck you properly and show you how much I loved that ride."
She smirks and then to my utter shock throws her head up to the sky and starts singing Big & Rich's "Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)."
One Month Later
"Can I ask you something?"
Leighton looks over, stopping her puttering around the kitchen. "Of course you can." She smiles, but it looks worried.
It's been a month since we signed the deed for the land. Things are moving quickly, and construction is slated to start next month. As for Leighton, she won a big award for the Texas State Fair in Dallas the week after we signed the deed, and she hasn't slowed down since. Her Taste a Cowboy pie, some mix of cream, fruits, and bacon, of all things, won best tasting. She's been doing a few different county fairs since, not that her business needs to hype, but I know it's something her mama used to love, so she does them for her.
We've been so busy that the time we do have together is usually stolen in between our schedules and sleeping. Not that I'm complaining; we've settled into our new lives together effortlessly. There isn't a second that passes Leigh doesn't make sure I know how much she loves me. Even if it's just a shy smile before driving to the PieHole. I might not be taking her out on extravagant dates, but I make sure she knows that her love is returned in spades.
Even with all that, though, I can't help but feel like there is just one piece left in a puzzle I've been working on for almost thirty years. The last one needed to fill that tiny empty spot I've never been able to satisfy.
"Why did you give so much of yourself to Buford?"
Shock flashes, clearly not expecting me to ask that. "What do you mean?" she hedges, walking around the island to sit at the kitchen table next to me.
"Clay told me you were there after he got sick, that you were there when he passed. I know that must not have been easy for you, with the PieHole and all, stopping your life to take care of him."
She reaches out and takes my hand, pulling it to her lap while shifting her chair so that we're right next to each other. I look up from the cat/beast I had been petting and give her my attention.
"You have to understand, Maverick, I didn't know everything that was behind you leaving. I knew Buford was a big part of it, but in my head he was still your father. When he got sick, all I could think of was what if that was you? What if you were out there on the road, sick and unable to care for yourself? No matter how much I wanted to hate him for pushing you away, even before I knew the magnitude of it, I looked at him, and I saw the man I was missing more and more as time passed."
I nod, understandingly, the heartbreaking reality that she was there and using him to replace me, in a way. "Do you think it's wrong that I can't forgive him?"
She's silent while she searches my face, whether it's so she can attempt to see where I'm headed with my questions or to choose her words carefully, but with a small shake of her head she breaks the silence. "I don't, honey. I know that it's been drilled in our heads that it's best to forgive, but some sins can't be washed away. What Buford did to you was wrong, so wrong. Your whole life was changed because of one hateful man. I've had my own issues with the forgiveness I had so easily given him after you told me everything, but in the end, I know I can't change anything by hating a dead man. I think what you really need to ask yourself is if holding on to all of that is worth the price you're paying."
Confusion pulls my lips into a frown, my brows wrinkled, and I feel myself start to protest before I even know what I'm going to say.
"Let me finish," she says, her free hand coming up to smooth the skin between my eyebrows. "You trusted me with the truth of your past, and that is something I will never take for granted. I will hold those truths inside until the day I die, but I think you need to tell Clay and Quinn. They didn't have it as bad as you, I would never even hint that, but they struggled too. I think you need to be honest with them about your mom, your relationship to Buford, all of it. I'm not saying it will be easy, but to leave it all behind you and forget it all, you have to let it go, and by keeping it bottled up between us, you're making it impossible to ever leave it behind completely."
"What good could telling them the truth do?"
"Honey," she says with a sigh, "Buford was a hateful man, but when he go
t sick a lot of that hate dissipated. I'm not saying it was gone or that it excused everything he did wrong in his life. Clay might have forgiven him for the past, but he will never forget. He gave Buford his forgiveness, but I think it was more for himself. He had carried a lot of anger around for a long time, and between Buford's hard hand and your mother leaving him, he doesn't trust easy. He has so much love to give, but because of the crap he's holding on to because of his parents, I fear he will never give it to someone lucky enough to have it."
She looks down, covering the hand she is still holding before lifting it to kiss against my knuckles. Not letting go, but giving me some of her love knowing that this conversation is hard.
"And then Quinn," she breathes. "My best friend has a heart so big but she keeps it hidden away. I've watched her harden herself from the sting of rejection her whole life. She won't let anyone get close enough to her because she is terrified of feeling that wound again. She used to burn so bright that the sun couldn't even keep up with her, but all it took was her opening her heart up a few times for that brightness to dim. It's been a long time since I saw her let anyone in. That fear rides her. She's damn good at hiding it, but it's there."
My chest hurts hearing about the struggles my siblings have hidden from me. "I thought that I would spare them the same pain I had felt, Leigh. In my head, I thought that if I was gone, maybe the old man would be different to them. It kills me to know that they've been suffering. Why don't they show me this?" My throat constricts and I have to blink back the emotion that wants to fall free.
She stands from her chair and I hold my hands out for her to sit in my lap. Her arms go around my neck and her forehead hits mine lightly. Her eyes are full of love, but I see the sadness swimming wet. "They both watched you suffer at Buford's hand. They lost you because of his abuse. That isn't something they could have ever let go. I have no doubt that they haven't told you everything for the same reason you're keeping your truths from them. To protect you."
"God," I breathe, closing my eyes.
"I'm not sayin' it will be easy, baby, but you need to give them all of it. Let them have the chance to find their own peace with the truth. They've made peace with Buford--let them make peace with the reality of your mother too. The only thing you can do is be there for them, but I don't think you will ever be able to put it behind you while keeping this from them."